Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald
by Potter47
Summary: A secret society has been founded within the halls of Hogwarts. What does it have to do with Ron? UPDATED.
1. The Society

Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald

__

Potter47

****

Author's Note:

Despite the title, and main theme, this story has absolutely nothing to do with the  
Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ginny. In fact, this is just another story,  
sprung from the same idea, which I decided to revisit. It does not take place in the same universe,  
and nothing that happened in that story has happened prior to the start of this one.

Or -- quite possibly -- the preceding sentences have merely been written to confuse you.  
This is, in fact, the prequel to the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ginny.

Or, if you like, I now am lying to you and was truthful before. Whichever you prefer.

Also, before I forget:

****

WARNING:   
DO NOT TAKE THIS FIC SERIOUSLY! IT WILL HARM YOUR MIND!

"Welcome everyone," Luna's voice rang through the enlarged Room of Requirement, "to the first meeting of the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald."

"Everyone?" said Hermione perplexedly, "There's no-one else here, just you and--"

Hermione stopped short, and her eyes widened. "_What did you say this thing was called?_" she demanded.

"The Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald," replied Luna cheerfully, gesturing towards something behind Hermione, who didn't bother looking.

"_OBSESSED?_" exclaimed Hermione. "I'm not _obsessed with Ron!_ How did I get here? Whose crazy idea was this?"

"Well, this is the Room of Requirement, Hermione," said Luna logically, looking down from the small raised section of floor, on which a podium had been placed. "I believe that whoever the Room decides is required to be here, _is_ here, at S. N. O. R. E."

"_Snore?_" said Hermione disbelievingly. "But there's no 'e' in Ronald--"

"As I was saying," Luna addressed the empty room, "welcome to the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald. We have all come here today -- voluntarily, mind you -- to help _each other_ with our obsession with the second youngest Weasley, Ronald. First of all, I do not blame a single one of you for your obsession. All of us have the same disease, merrily chomping its way through our being, until nothing is left of us but unwavering devotion--"

"I DO NOT!" cried Hermione. "I have no such thing inside of _me!_ I'm not obsessed with Ron! I don't even _fancy_ Ron! I fancy--"

"Yes?"

Hermione's head snapped round. She didn't see the speaker, but she did see something she had not before. A large, flat, red-haired, life-size, cardboard cut-out of Ron Weasley was standing in the centre of the room.

"Who said that?" she questioned.

"Me, of course," said the life-size image. Or at least, that's what _Hermione_ thought it was...

"WHAT!" Hermione exclaimed once again, surprised to see this was a _magical _large, flat, red-haired, life-size, cardboard cut-out of Ron Weasley. It made things that much more miserable.

Hermione spun round to Luna. "Luna, I've never started one of these _societies,_ but if I ever did, I would most definitely not have a _talking_ stand up of the person I was obsessing about! Wouldn't it kind of get in the way; seem as though it wasn't a secret society anymore?"

"That's not a--"

"I asked a question!" cried the poster, wavering slightly on its two-dimensional feet. "You were going to say who you fancied? It's really been driving me barmy, trying to figure that out. Hey," he said (or perhaps _it?_), "you're right. Why _are_ you here? You most definitely aren't obsessed with me. Even I'm not that dense."

"Exactly!" said Hermione, blatantly ignoring his first question. "What in the world am I here for?"

"Well," said Luna, biting her lip and sitting down on the small, slightly raised area, legs dangling off the end (the slightly raised area, had, of course, grew to be a more-than-slightly-raised area, so that she could do so; it was the Room of Requirement after all), "the obvious explanation is that the readers would be outraged if you weren't included at _all._ They're mad enough because of the pairings in the _Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ginny_."

"The what?" said Ron, looking at Luna suspiciously. "There's a society for nutters obsessed with _my sister?_ Who's crazy idea was that?"

"I've always wondered," said Luna, changing the subject abruptly, "which is the proper way; 'whose' or 'who's'? Because when _Hermione _said, 'Whose crazy idea was this?' it was 'whose.' But when _Ronald_ said it, it was--"

"It's--" began Hermione, but she stopped abruptly. "Wait a minute. Don't tell me I'm being taken out of character, so that I can be paired with _Ron_ again! I should _know_ that! But suddenly, I'm not quite as smart..."

"It's either that," said Ron, "or I suddenly get a dozen times as many brains as I did before. I hate it when that happens. It's so annoying: one minute, I'm in-character, goofing off and annoying you, and the next I'm quoting Shakespeare!"

Which, of course, is _really_ a secret obsession of his. But for the purpose of this--

"It is NOT!" Ron yelled at the ceiling. "I shouldn't even know who Shakespeare is!"

"Oh, no," said Hermione, trying desperately to keep her mouth shut. "Not again. The author isn't _supposed_ to be able to interact with us! Even if it is funny! Whenever the text that is written somehow becomes audible to us, I--"

"Wait a minute!" said Ron, who had been thinking quite logically while Hermione was blabbering nonsense. "I just had an epiphany -- a word which here means 'sudden burst of intellect, telling me the solution', despite the fact that I shouldn't be able to define epiphany. Right now, I know who Shakespeare was. I shouldn't. In fact, there is no evidence suggesting that Shakespeare even _existed_ in this world. But I just realised; who randomly inserts Shakespeare when it is completely unnecessary?"

"Barb Lamond Purdom?" suggested Luna. "Whose/who's middle name was originally _not_ Lamond, but a different 'L' name, which (or is it witch?) she dropped when she was married?"

"No, not her," said Ron, knowing quite well who B. L. Purdom was, even though he shouldn't. "Though that is true."

"I know the answer!" said Hermione happily. "Yay! Oh no! I'd never say '_yay..._'But the answer, _obviously_, is Steve Kloves! There was absolutely no reason to put that frog choir into the third film. It was completely unnecessary, _and_ Shakespearean! I bet he's writing this!"

Of course, despite the fact that all reasoning pointed to this being the correct answer, (if you could call besmirching my good name by calling me Steve Kloves _reasonable_), it was not true.

"I am not Steve Kloves," I say, quite obviously breaking from the third-person that this story has been till now. "Here, see for yourself."

And with a _pop_, the three inhabitants of the room became four. A bewildered American screenwriter had just appeared in the Room of Requirement, and the story was returned to the rightful third-person.

"Hello?" said Kloves confusedly. "Do you live here?"

"No," said Hermione murderously. "I do not live here."

"Who are you?" said Kloves, "For that matter, who am I?"

"Oh, stop the bloody Lockhart impersonation, Kloves," said the Ron-poster, who over the past however-many pages was not once referred to as a poster of any kind, but as a Pinocchio-like real boy. Sadly, he was now a poster again.

"Well, why am I here?" said Kloves, himself once again (if this author really knew what 'himself' was like).

The almighty and great author told you to be, I thought.

"NOT AGAIN!" cried Hermione. "If you're going to communicate with us, how about making a piece of paper appear, or something that would go with the Room of Requirement theme?"

Suddenly, a piece of paper appeared atop Ron's head. Of course, he didn't really have a head, just a two-dimensional cardboard cut-out, so the parchment (as it couldn't possibly be simple _paper_ in Hogwarts) fell behind him. Hermione went to get it, and swiftly unfolded it. It was brief, and to the point. Written in expert calligraphy, was the word

**_

NO!

_**

and Hermione crumpled the paper in her left hand. (Not that it was specified which hand she picked it up in).

"This is incredibly funny," she said cheerfully.

"No it's not! It's incredibly frustrating!" she said not-so-cheerfully.

"Whatever flies your broom!" she said cheerfully, once again.

"NO I DIDN'T!"

"Yes, I did," she said, sounding like Luna would, if _she_ ever had the unpleasant occasion of being split into two personalities.

"I do not sound like Luna!"

After a minute or two of split-personality insanity from Hermione, the three rounded on Kloves, though Ron really stayed perfectly still, as a cardboard cut-out cannot round on anybody.

"You really need to stop 'shipping," said Ron venomously. "Screenwriters shouldn't 'ship. Especially something that wasn't in the book--"

"But wait!" cried the reader. "Of _course_ there's Ron/Hermione in the books! It's _obvious! _Remember the Yule Ball?!"

"That's not what I said!" said Ron irritably. "I said there wasn't any in _the book_, not _the books_. _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ did not centre on Ron and Hermione _at all_. There was no romantic tension between them; most definitely nothing about 'moving closer'. In fact, the only accurate portrayal of someone fancying someone else was me and Madam Rosmerta!"

"_Gasp!_" gasped the readers. "That's indecent! An outrage! A scandal!"

"On page two-hundred, of the American edition," said Luna, though it is not clear where she found the American edition, even in the Room of Requirement, "is the following passage. Hem, hem:

"_It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar._

'That's Madam Rosmerta,' said Ron. 'I'll get the drinks, shall I?' he added, going slightly red." 

And so Luna finished. The faces of all in the room (save Kloves) were staring at her in shock. Not to mention all those playing along at home -- a phrase which here means 'reading and thoroughly getting caught up in the nonsensical story.'

"You didn't have to_ read_ it...," said Ron, going slightly red (as red as a cardboard cut-out could go).

"How does she have the book, when--" said Hermione, but was cut off by Kloves.

"See! I was right!"

"_Gasp!_" gasped the readers again, though it was not entirely clear whether (_Weather? _thought Luna) it resulted from the shock that Rosmerta/Ron was indeed shown in the canon for three whole words, or the fact that Steve Kloves actually got something _right._

And meanwhile, back at the ranch, it was entirely too clear to anyone who had read Lemony Snicket that the author had read Lemony Snicket.

"You know," said Luna, "I bet the author's read Lemony Snicket. He or she has said 'a word which here means...' twice already, and now has repeated the 'meanwhile, back at the ranch,' cliche."

"Really?" said Steve Kloves Lockhartedly. "You mean writer's can read _books?_ Who would've thought..."

"'Writers' doesn't have an apostrophe. But that's not the point," said Hermione, using a phrase which here means "not the main idea."

"See!" cried Luna, but was cut off by Hermione, finishing her thought.

"We still need to find out what I'm doing here, when I should be at the first meeting of S.N.O.W.S!

"_Snows?_" said Ron's poster, speaking for the first time in nearly a page. "What's _snows?_"

"Erm...," said Hermione, clearly hiding the fact that she was a regular at the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Sirius.

"I AM NOT! Why would I be obsessed with Sirius? Sirius is _dead!_ Anyway, it stands for--"

"Yes?" asked Ron, Luna, and Kloves.

"Yes?" asked the reader and the author.

"Well, it doesn't matter what it stands for, but it doesn't stand for that!" Hermione concluded, thankful that she had not revealed her secret; that she was _really_ a regular at the Society for Nutters Obsessed with _Slytherin!_

"She is not!" cried the Ron-poster. "She would never be obsessed with Slytherin!"

"Er...well..." began Hermione, found-out-ed-ly. "That's not _exactly_ true!" she exclaimed.

__

Society for Nutters Obsessed with Salazar? asked the author, using his/her skills of Occlumency, to--

"No!" said Hermione. "And it's 'Legilimency,' not 'Occlumency!' Occlumency is blocking things _out_. _Legilimency_ is getting into someone _else's _mind!"

__

Whatever. How about Society for Nutters Obsessed with Seekers?

"No!" said Hermione crossly. "I'm not obsessed with seekers! I don't even like Quidditch!"

This, of course, was a lie. We all know that Hermione had a love for both Quidditch and flying that she never told anyone.

"_Then how would you know?_" asked Hermione. "And I _don't!_"

__

Whatever. _Society for Nutters Obsessed with Snitches?_

"I _told_ you I didn't like Quidditch!"

__

Streelers?

"A giant _snail?_ Like that would happen!"

__

Snicket? Lemony Snicket?

"NO!" said Hermione. "Why would I go to a Muggle book author society? That makes no sense..."

__

Snape?

The room became deathly silent. Hermione couldn't breath. She--

"It's 'breathe' not 'breath'," corrected Hermione softly. "There's an 'e'."

"Yes," said Luna. "Which brings us back to S. N. O. R. E. Let's take attendance..."

**_

Finis

_**


	2. The Screenplay

"Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald"A screenplay by Steve Kloves

INT - ROOM OF REQUIREMENT

  
  
HERMIONE GRANGER

Welcome everyone, to the first meeting of the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald.

LUNA LOVEGOOD

(perplexedly)

Everyone? There's no-one else here, just you and--

L. L. stops short, eyes widening, and looks back and forth.

  
  
LUNA LOVEGOOD (CONT'D)

What am I doing here!? I don't even exist!

HERMIONE GRANGER

(logically)

What are you talking about? Of course you exist: you're standing right here. Nothing exists if it isn't shown on-screen, silly.

LUNA LOVEGOOD

No, I mean the screenwriter has given no thought to the fact that I'm going to pop up in the fifth film! He acts as if there is no chance that you and Ronald aren't going to fall in love...

HERMIONE GRANGER

(hopefully)

Do you think? Do you think really Ronald could love ME?!

LUNA LOVEGOOD

(snappishly)

Don't call him Ronald! You're not supposed to call him Ronald! Only I am!

HERMIONE GRANGER

(to the room at large)

As I was saying, welcome to the Society for Nutters Obsessed with Ronald. We have all come here today -- voluntarily, mind you -- to help each other with our obsession with the second youngest Weasley, Ronald. First of all, I do not blame a single one of you for your obsession. All of us have the same disease, merrily chomping its way through our being, until nothing is left of us but unwavering devotion--

LUNA LOVEGOOD

YOU DO NOT!

HERMIONE GRANGER

Well, that doesn't matter, does it? You don't exist.

LUNA LOVEGOOD

Of course I exist! I'm standing right here!

HERMIONE GRANGER

That's not what you just said...oh! I know just the way to sort this out!

LUNA LOVEGOOD

(distressedly)

How?

HERMIONE GRANGER

(italically)

INCENDIO RONALD!

A cardboard cut-out of RONALD WEASLEY appears in front of his besotted best friend. H. G. smiles at him/it SHYLY. This is, of course, the proper function of the spell...

  
  
LUNA LOVEGOOD

WHAT? That's not the function of that spell! If this were canon, you would have set him on fire!

HERMIONE GRANGER

Yes, but canon doesn't matter now, does it?

LUNA LOVEGOOD

Of course it does!

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

(confuzzledly)

Erm...what am I doing here?

HERMIONE GRANGER

I summoned you, of course.

H.G. looks down at her feet, hands behind her back. R.W.C.C.O. smiles slightly at her.

  
  
RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

You know, Hermione, I'd ask to move closer, but...I'm a cardboard cut-out after all...

LUNA LOVEGOOD

(admonishingly)

Ronald!

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

What? Oh, right. Figuring this out...hey, wait a minute. How'd I know that? I wasn't here...

HERMIONE GRANGER

(flirtatiously)

Who cares? You know, Ronald, the Shrieking Shack's usually empty this time of year...

LUNA LOVEGOOD

There will be no Shrieking Shack snogging in this--

LUNA and RONALD look up suddenly, as if having an epiphany.

  
  
HERMIONE GRANGER

What? As always, I'm the last to figure things out...

LUNA LOVEGOOD

SNOG!

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

(simultaneously)

SNOG!

HERMIONE GRANGER

(hurtly)

What? What about me?

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

Who is the only person in the history of fandom to call their stories "Society for Nutters Obsessed with..." something?

HERMIONE GRANGER

(shivering)

I don't know...I don't read fanfiction. Too many crazy people pair me up with...Harry...Dumbledore...HAGRID...but I'd assume that whoever it was is writing this as well?

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

Exactly!

LUNA LOVEGOOD

Then it must be...

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

Potter47!

LUNA LOVEGOOD

(simultaneously)

Potter47!

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

It must be him!

HERMIONE GRANGER

(reluctantly)

Well, there's only one way to find out...INCENDIO POTTER47!

POTTER47

(screaming)

AHHH!!!

POTTER47 falls, screaming from the ceiling. His robes are aflame, and he is, obviously, in pain. Serves him right...

  
  
LUNA LOVEGOOD

OMG! OMG! OMG! We'v got2 put out fyr!!!1!!

POTTER47

(stampingly)

Dont...use...internet...shorthand....

LUNA LOVEGOOD

Sorry.

HERMIONE GRANGER

(italically)

Accio!

The flames on Potter47's robes sadly, yet ultimately, POOF! out of existance.

  
  
POTTER47

Thanks. But since when do fires "poof?"

HERMIONE GRANGER

So you're not, like, writing this?

POTTER47

WHAT? NO! Why in the world would I write THIS? It's obviously -- ha ha -- the work of an evil shipper. Someone out to conquer the fandom, not just writing for the sake of proving a point, showing a possibility, or showing the irony in something widely believed (which I like to do). No, this is utter nonsense.

LUNA LOVEGOOD

(doubtfully)

I don't know...you've written some pretty out-there stuff...

POTTER47

All in the spirit of entertainment! This is sheer...absurdity. There is only one writer on the planet that would dare to propose that HERMIONE would start a group like this...

LUNA LOVEGOOD

Who?

RONALD WEASLEY CARDBOARD CUT-OUT

(simultaneously)

Who?

HERMIONE GRANGER

He SAID me!

POTTER47

Isn't it obvious? Sorry, I had to say that...

LUNA LOVEGOOD

You're stalling!

POTTER47

All in the name of suspense!

HERMIONE GRANGER

Well, obviously...

POTTER47

HA! Hermione said "obviously"! To me! Though, that's NOTHING to that time J.K.R. said it to me, at that chat...

LUNA LOVEGOOD

PLEASE!

POTTER47

Alright, fine. The one person in the entire universe that would right this story, is--

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning crashes down through the ceiling of the Room of Requirement. It hits Potter47 square in the forehead, and he dies instantly.INT - STEVE KLOVES OFFICE - MIDNIGHT

  
  
STEVE KLOVES

(cackling maniacally)

Ha ha! Now THAT'S payback!

Picking up his coffee mug, Steve Kloves revels in his brilliance.

  
  
STEVE KLOVES (CONT'D)

That kid sure deserved it...making up those lies about me...implying that screenwriters shouldn't ship...that Ron/Hermione might not happen...that Hermione fancied SNAPE! He so deserved it...

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning crashes down through the ceiling of Steve Kloves' office. It hits the screenwriter square in the forehead, and he dies instantly.INT - EDINBURGH CAFE - MIDDAY

  
  
J. K. ROWLING

Oh, HE so deserved that...changing my stories...foreshadowing things that--oh, thank you.

J. K. R. accepts TWELFTH cup of TEA from WAITER.

  
  
WAITER

(gesturing to notebook in J.K.R.'s hands.)

So, Ms Rowling...this is it? This is what's going to happen in the sixth book?

J. K. ROWLING

(found-out-ed-ly)

Erm...not exactly...

WAITER

Then the seventh?

WAITER chuckles.

  
  
WAITER (CONT'D)

You know, I cracked up at your answer to one of Potter47's questions...what was it? Oh, yeah. "Harry Potter and...something. Catchy, don't you think? And I think I'll follow the same model for seven."

J. K. ROWLING

(changing subject)

You're a fan, aren't you?

WAITER

Why do you think I work here?

WAITER walks away.

  
  
J. K. ROWLING

Hmmm...I'd better publish this under a pseudonym...

Suddenly, a figurative bolt of lightning crashes down through the ceiling of the Edinburgh cafe. It hits the author square in the forehead, and she smiles.

  
  
J. K. ROWLING (CONT'D)

I know...


End file.
